It

What do I have to say, I said,
in order to not say it.

Lot's of silence after the ignition was turned off.
The engine was ticking, the rain more regular
on the car roof, lot's of silence, lot's of white
around the words I already imagined 

a scene. So intolerably long 
you looked, looking like the question
incarnated. What do I have to say
I ran, and wondered about the words I someday would emphasize.
Everything was possible by always staying in the moment.
Saddened you seemed to want to write it on the foggy window.